A/N: For Arynwy, on her birthday.
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Having finished his own meagre portion, Severus leant back with his glass of wine and looked across the table at Harry. Too busy twirling spaghetti onto his fork, Harry was unaware of his gaze and so Severus had leisure to consider him.
Their relationship continually surprised and awed him. So much so that he rarely allowed himself to ponder it for fear it would evaporate under the scrutiny. But tonight he let the wonder of it slide into clearer thought, yet pushing each slice away before it had opportunity to fix itself.
The tentative reflections warmed him nonetheless and he basked in the rush of heated, sidelong glances; in hands possessive on knees, shoulders and arms; and in the comfort of private jokes told with smiles amid silence. These were Severus' treasures and he tended them lavishly and selfishly, always in the expectation they would cease to be augmented by others; more evidence that Harry loved him.
As always, he needed to add to his hoard.
Without pausing in his appreciation of the fine Merlot, he toed off a boot and stretched out his leg under the table. He slid a socked foot up the inside of Harry's leg, inwardly smirking when he effected a start of surprise at the contact.
He pressed the foot firmly into muscle and used his toes to walk it up to softer, more sensitive ground. Rubbing his foot into the flesh of his inner thigh, he watched the creep of heat rise into twin blooms on Harry's cheeks. He rubbed more insistently, slinking his foot into Harry's groin. Already half-hard – his was a receptive lover – he worked Harry's cock into full, mouth-watering hardness.
Shifting in his chair, Harry slouched a bit, giving Severus better access. Despite the obvious strain to resist, Harry's hips jerked slightly against Severus' foot. Their eyes met above a glass on one side and a neglected, speared meatball on the other. Harry coughed a groan as Severus ground the sole of his foot up and down the length of his cock.
The eyes darkened into yearning and Severus smiled around the wine.
"Are you all right, dear?" asked Molly, causing several amused glances to swing knowingly between him and Harry.
He basked in the rush of others knowing the pleasure they shared together; the pleasure he denied himself knowledge of lest it crumbled into dust under his greedy eyes.